


We Have a New Song

by uhpockuhlipz



Series: New Song verse [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-19 23:13:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11908206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhpockuhlipz/pseuds/uhpockuhlipz
Summary: A companion piece to We Need a New Song containing prompt fills for the new song verse.





	We Have a New Song

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all. I'm gonna be posting New Song related prompts here because I just can't stay away 100% (: this first one was a prompt fill for day six of supercorp week, "Kara or Lena get protective." Enjoy!

Lena was beyond tired, verging on the edge of totally exhausted.

It wasn’t unexpected. It was, after all, what the doctors had told her would happen in the last trimester of her pregnancy. With five weeks to go, they’d told Lena to rest as much as possible, that she’d likely be experiencing a lot of discomfort and fatigue, and Jesus, were they right. But she didn’t mind. No, she didn’t mind. Because the life she carried was hers, and it was Kara’s. And it was its own. 

She would always be their child, Lena thought as she pressed a hand to her belly, but she would always be her own person. 

Their Nola.

Lena was smiling to herself with the thought when she heard her phone vibrate on the table beside the bed. Parenting book still in hand, she reached absently out for it, certain it was just Kara checking in for the hundredth time that day. She was, bless her, ridiculously over-protective and Lena found it as frustrating as it was endearing. 

(“For God’s sake, Kara, I’m just pregnant. Pregnancy’s been a thing for as long as mammals have walked the earth. I’ll be fine.”)

The constant texting was a compromise, one they’d developed so that Kara would stop ditching work to run home and check on her. Lena was sure Cat would fire her if she kept that up for the last month and change of the pregnancy, however fond she was of them both.

(She knew that Cat was, as the woman was constantly giving her advice about childbirth and tending to an infant and had all but forced Kara to accept paid leave for the time following the baby’s birth, though she wasn’t the one carrying her.)

When Lena finally switched her attention to her phone, however, it was not Kara who’d messaged her. Nor was it anyone she had been expecting. Because the number displayed on her phone was Lillian Luthor’s, and it said only _Dinner tonight?_

Lena stared at it, a long-dormant dread filling her chest and stomach. Such an enormously physical reaction, in fact, that the baby kicked hard and she had to take huge, gulping breaths to calm her own pulse as she rubbed soothing circles against the side of her stomach. 

“Mommy’s sorry, baby,” she breathed, still staring at the text. Hands shaking, Lena switched to her chat conversation with Kara, had typed out the words _my mother texted me_ before she’d even thought it through. But when her thumb hovered over ‘send,’ she froze and took another breath. If she sent this, then Kara would be so, so furious and she’d leave in the middle of the day again to rush home to Lena’s side. If she sent it, Alex and Maggie would likely be called and Alex would be just as mad as Kara. She’d want to track Lillian down and threaten her with jail time just for contacting Lena and god, the headache and the drama of it all would be dizzying. Lena didn’t need all of that.

So she deleted that and wrote instead that she was going out for dinner with a friend and after promising she’d take a Lyft instead of driving herself, she finally went back to her mother’s text. She stared at it another long minute and then steeled herself, typing only _okay_ before pushing out of bed to prepare.

  


//

  


She hadn’t had to ask what restaurant Lillian wanted to meet at. It was always the same one, as her mother was a creature of habit. If something met her standards, then she stuck to it. 

Lena hadn’t been there in quite some time – in fact, not since the last time Lillian had demanded to have dinner with her (back when she was still dancing, back before things had changed, back when she still let her mother intimidate her) – but it was easy enough to fall back into the habit of looking her best in preparation of going there.

Oh, but Lena had changed so much since Lillian had walked out of her life. She’d exchanged leotards and simple, pretty dresses for darker colors, bolder makeup, a looser hairstyle. The Lena with the black dress and bold red lipstick, with hair falling over her shoulders and down her back, currently climbing out of the back of a Lyft? It was not the Lena Lillian had trained, not the one she’d be expecting. And there was satisfaction in that, she thought as she stepped towards the restaurant. Even as her knees felt like jelly and her back snapped straight, there was satisfaction in that.

Lillian was already there, of course, lips pursed as she glanced impatiently down at her watch. Lena wasn’t late, but Lillian’s standards were _if you aren’t at least ten minutes early, Lena, then don’t bother showing up.“_ It was a habit Lena had stuck to even after she and Lillian had parted ways five years ago, but she’d deliberately pulled up right on time for this meeting and the fact that Lillian still sat there said more than her mother probably wanted it to. 

Namely, that her mother wanted something. 

Well, she wouldn’t get it from Lena. That was why she’d agreed to meet her - to show her she’d grown, to tell her she’d never get anything from Lena again. And maybe a little to show her in person how very different, how very happy, Lena was without her. Petty, perhaps, but she felt entitled to just a little bit of pettiness after everything she’d endured. 

Lena took her seat across from Lillian, watched the surprise slide in and out of her mother’s eyes when she took her in. Again her lips pursed, pressing into a thin line as those familiar eyes skimmed down to Lena’s rounded belly. Lena braced for the scathing remarks, readied herself to bite back. Her skin felt like ice and her stomach was in knots, but she’d tell her. She would. 

But Lillian only smiled and looked back up at her, sipping her wine as she gestured to Lena from across the table. 

“I see I was a bit premature in ordering your wine for you.” 

“Yes,” Lena agreed, the word slow and her tone measured. Oh, yes, it was so easy to slip into familiar habits around Lillian Luthor, even after five years. Deliberate in every movement, spine straight, insides tangled… yes, it was all very familiar. Lena pressed a hand to her stomach beneath the table, took strength from the lift that stirred against her palm. With her other hand, she lifted her water glass and sipped to wet her suddenly dry throat. 

“It’s certainly unexpected to hear from you, mother. You were very steadfast in your refusal to see me after the last time we talked.” She hadn’t even messaged when her father’s will had gifted her a generous amount of money on her twenty-fifth birthday, something she was sure had been a wretchedly irritating loss for Lillian, who’d been very clear in stating that Lena was cut off. 

“Yes, well. Things change when you get older, Lena. You’ll grow to see that.” The waiter stopped by and took their orders, interrupting their conversation long enough for Lena to collect herself again, to calm and sip her water and catch the breath that threatened to stick in her lungs. 

“What do you want, mother?” She asked it quietly once the waiter left again, green eyes sharp as they focused on Lillian. She saw what might’ve been a flash of hurt cross the older woman’s face, but Lillian had always been a master manipulator. She used whatever emotions she thought would work to get to Lena and Lena wasn’t going to let it work now. 

“To see you, Lena, of course. I’d heard you married that girl last year.” There was just enough derision in her tone to stiffen Lena’s spine again, to have her fists clenching beneath the table. “I was hurt I didn’t receive an invitation.” 

“No you weren’t.” Lena practically scoffed, her temper flashing bright and hot into her eyes. There was surprise from Lillian and Lena thought _good,_ rather viciously pleased that she could elicit it now. “That girl’s name is Kara, and you didn’t approve of that relationship five years ago when you cut me off for it. I won’t let you use it now.” 

Lillian wasn’t pleased. Lena recognized it, but she wouldn’t cower. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, met it head on. But of course Lillian wouldn’t make a scene. She never did, and she wanted something besides. She only sipped her wine again, reevaluating Lena over the rim. 

“You’re right. I certainly didn’t expect an invitation after the mess I made of things. But I would like to make amends, Lena. You’re my only daughter, and you’re carrying my only grandchild.” 

“First, not only,” Lena corrected. “And that doesn’t matter. They won’t know you, Lillian. You aren’t their grandmother. You gave up that right long before Kara and I decided to have them.” She watched Lillian’s nostrils flare, watched the temper flash in icy shards through her eyes. 

“I raised you, Lena. I’m your mother, whether you want that to be true or not.” 

“You raised me,” Lena agreed. She’d been fed - somewhat - and clothed and educated. That much she would agree to. “But my mother died when I was four years old. You were nothing more than a reluctant caretaker and we both know that. So whatever it is you want, the answer is no.” 

“I see I’m not getting through to you.” Lillian was silent for a long minute, studying her, all semblance of warmth now gone from her expression. When she smiled, it was coldly. “Perhaps I’ll go to your old studio and visit with your… wife. I’m sure she’d be more sympathetic to an aging mother who just wants to see her child, her grandchildren.” 

The threat was obvious and oh, Lena would have given in so quickly once. She would’ve bent to the pressure so easily at twenty-two and sat, cowed, listening to what her mother had to say. But now? Now the fury rose up, white hot, burning through her. She slammed her hands down on the table and bent forward over it, ignoring the way her belly bumped against it as she did so. The baby turned and kicked inside of her, as if to agree wit her temper, and Lena pressed a hand over her again to take strength from the movements as she glared at Lillian. 

"If you so much as think about going near Kara, I will bury you.” She spoke calmly, quietly, even as her eyes spit fire. “I’m not the girl you tried to make me, and I won’t give in to your threats or special brand of manipulation. I’m an adult. A wife. A mother. And I will do so much better at all of those things than you ever did. I’m sorry your life didn’t turn out how you wanted, I truly am. If you’d talked with me about it, if you’d shown one modicum of care in raising me, I might’ve been more inclined to forgive you. But life has made you hard and cold and cruel and I don’t welcome that in the life of my child or my wife. Or myself.” And with that, Lena pushed away from the table, wobbling a little as her center of gravity shifted and the baby kicked again. 

“Lex died.” Lillian said it abruptly, lips pressed together, her eyes cold and dry as she looked at Lena. The words froze her, had her world tipping sideways for just a moment before it righted again. Lex, the one who’d loved her until he didn’t anymore. Lex, her brother, the one she’d turned to once upon a time. Lena steadied herself on the back of her chair, drew in a deep breath as Lillian continued. “They’re keeping it quiet until his will is sorted, but I wanted to tell you. You’re all I have left, Lena.” 

“My brother died a long time ago,” Lena said, her voice tinged with sadness for the boy Lex had once been. 

“He left everything to you,” Lillian finally snapped, her cold anger flashing in her eyes again. “His money, his shares in LuthorCorp. Everything. I want you to sign it over to me and then we never have to have one of these distasteful meetings ever again. I have the paperwork here.” Lillian reached for the bag at her side and Lena thought, _ah._

“Tell his lawyers to contact me. We’re done.” And so saying, Lena turned from the table. Her mother called out to her, but she didn’t stop. 

She wanted to go home. 

// 

Kara was home by the time Lena stepped inside and her welcoming smile had Lena smiling instantly in return. She set down her purse and went to her, let Kara’s lips press to hers even as her hands fell to the swell of her belly to cover their daughter. 

“How was dinner?” she asked softly, leaning back to meet Lena’s eyes. Something changed in the blue of them before Lena could say anything, her smile falling just a bit. “What happened?” 

So Lena explained. She told Kara about the text from her mother, the dinner, the words exchanged (all but the threat to go to Kara herself, something she doubted her mother was courageous enough to do). She told her about Lex dying, watched the fury on Kara’s face shift to something softer as she wrapped Lena up in her arms and hugged her as close as she could with the baby between them. 

“I can’t believe she told you that way. I’m going to go find that woman and-” 

“No. No, Kara, please. She isn’t worth our time or effort. I’m okay.” She smiled and cupped her wife’s face, brushed her thumbs over her cheeks to sooth. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it’s… it’s closure I needed and I knew you’d want to keep me from it. You wouldn’t have let me go.” 

Kara frowned. “I want to protect you. Both of you,” she added, her hands back around the baby. 

“Oh, Kara, I know. And I love you for it, for how much you love me. But it’s something I needed to do. I had things to tell her, to show her. Just me. I needed to know I could.” 

Kara was quiet for a long moment before she sighed and nodded. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Okay.” She kissed Lena again and Lena smiled into her, fingers lifting to curl over her shoulders. It was so easy to be strong when she had her wife as an example, and as a reason. Her wife, her child. Her family. 

She didn’t need what Lex had left her. She had everything she wanted right here in her arms. 

(But it certainly didn’t hurt.)


End file.
